


Right Handed

by LastContinue, pikachuch1mchar



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Gen, Listen bucko theres gonna be descriptions of abuse in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7576933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastContinue/pseuds/LastContinue, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikachuch1mchar/pseuds/pikachuch1mchar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who would've known that a broken wrist could change Yuki Mishima's entire life as he knew it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Affliction

**Author's Note:**

> So my good chum pikachuch1mchar came up with a brilliant story idea and we decided to co-write another story about the precious Yuki Mishima, but this time around we decided to make it multi chapter to amp the angst up to 11. We hope you enjoy!

It started out as a volleyball game. The worst thing that could happen in the moment for the team was losing, in their thought. That is, until a few minutes into the game. Things were just getting more competitive. No one was tired yet, and everyone had gotten into the groove. Until that is, someone spiked the ball down particularly hard. It was Yuki Mishima’s job to save it, so instinctively he dove for it, his left hand in front.

He did save it, although drowned out by the sound of the ball rebounding off of his hand were cracks, and blending almost perfectly with the whap of the ball was a pained yell.

Yuki was used to getting hurt in volleyball practices and games. His faulty positioning gave him sore arms more times than he could count, not to mention the bloody noses he got when he accidently received a pass with his face. Yuki even had to buy kneepads for himself after he noticed how many times he scraped his knees from diving for the ball.

But this, this was different.

As his wrist smacked the hardwood floor, he felt a sharp pain run up his arm, and suddenly his fingers refused to move. As he got up from the ground, he tried moving his thumb, to no avail. The more he tried to move it, the worse the pain became.

“Mishima! You alright?”, his coach yelled, his voice laced with concern. Yuki bit his lip and tried not to cry from the pain. “Y-Yes sir, I’m alright, I think it’s just a bruise!” Yuki gritted out.

His coach took it with a grain of salt. As mentioned, Yuki did get a few injuries from being a defensive player, but this was sort of abnormal. Either way, Yuki was still allowed to play. For the rest of the set he led his defenses with his right hand. It felt weird.

At the start of the new set, they changed positions. It wasn’t his favorite position, being the one that he felt obligated to attack on, but he figured he should probably get it over with. Especially with his left hand stinging with searing pain. The sooner the better. 

The set was largely uneventful for Yuki, even on the defense. It seemed a player in the back was trying to cover for him with normal plays. It didn’t work all the time, but Yuki felt thankful to his teammate. There was at least one time when he had to attack, though. He led with his left hand, from muscle memory. His wrist knocked back instead of staying stable like it did when it wasn’t injured, and as soon as the ball made contact with his hand, it was everything he could do not to cry out again. He just winced and took in a sharp breath, eyes squeezed shut until the new stings and burns faded to levels he could handle. He didn’t realize that a tear had been shed during that time. The instinctiveness of that spike was definitely a mistake he regretted.

There was a short break before the next set. His coach pulled him aside again, noticing that his ‘bruised’ wrist was swelling.

“Mishima, I don’t think that’s ok. At least sit out for this next set and put some ice on that thing, will you?”

Oh. Oh shit. This was not good.

Yuki knew that his coach had good intentions, perhaps too good. Coach always looked out for his players, Yuki especially. He was the one who always carried extra bandages and nosebleed plugs, because he knew how accident prone and downright unlucky Yuki was, despite how many times Yuki tried to hide it. But Yuki knew what would happen if he took his coach up on his offer. He would be sent to the nurse's’ office the minute the match ended, the nurse would call his parents, and, and-

Yuki didn’t even want to think about what would happen next. 

“I appreciate the sentiment sir, but I’m alright, really! I’ve dealt with this before, I’m used to it. I’ll make sure to take a break if it becomes anything i can’t handle!” Yuki chimed. Well, it wasn’t a flat out lie. He has actually bruised his wrists during practices before, when that happened his wrists were kissed with black and blue speckles, with a little bit of swelling. He wasn’t so lucky this time.

“Well, okay Mishima, but please take frequent breaks whenever you can, you’re an important asset to this team, and I’m not sure what we’d do without ya! I’ll get an ice pack ready just in case, I’ll be right back,” his coach said sternly. 

This gave Yuki enough time to race to his bag and slide on his pair of black and red sweatbands, both bands branded with the Shuujin High logo. It covered his wrists just enough to cover the majority of the swelled areas, so it was perfect. 

Yuki’s teammates ran up to him, congratulating him on his save. All of them did except Kenichi, who was far beyond worried for him. Kenichi always found himself supporting Yuki during their matches, from set ups to backing him up whenever Yuki missed the ball. But this was different from before. Each time the team rotated, Kenichi couldn’t help but notice the way Yuki would bite his lip and swear under his breath, it was so.. unlike him.

The timeout ended in the blink of an eye, and it took Yuki a minute to figure out what his position was. It was his turn to serve.

Fuck.

With serving he couldn’t really just cover with his right hand. He had to throw with one and spike with the other, and his left hand wasn’t really fit to do either. He didn’t have time to think about any solutions before the set started. He couldn’t take more than a second to muster up some courage for this shot. He threw with his right hand.

Once again the burn of a ball hitting his skin wasn’t there, replaced with the feeling that someone had plunged a knife into his wrist. He gasped as if that had happened, too. Unfortunately, his serve was also quite weak due to his almost unusable hand, so he had to get back out there and play his primary role as defense. As expected the ball bounced back to their side of the court quickly. It was only the third set, he didn’t want to let his team down that soon, if at all. He moved himself to intercept the ball, preparing to direct it to the setter, but when it came down, his left arm ended up buckling. He couldn’t get away with a gasp that time. He let out something between a yell and a whine, and he couldn’t control how his face went and showed a look of pure pain. It wasn’t discreet, it wasn’t hideable, everyone could honestly see that he wasn’t fit to play, for at least that game.

At least he wouldn’t be going to the nurse's office after the game. No, his coach called a timeout, and after a quick examination, it was decided that he was going to the hospital. Right then.

No. NO. NONONONONONONONO. Yuki couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t let his parents find out about this, who knows what they would do to him! He snatched his wrist away from the examiner’s hands while muffling a scream of pain and he bolted toward the gym doors. 

Yuki couldn’t hear the shouts and calls of his teammates as he ran toward the school entrance. I have to get out of here I have to get out of here I have to get out of here I HAVE TO GET OUT-

Before he knew it he reached the school entrance, with Kenichi and the coach waiting for him.

“Please Yuki, why are you doing this? You’re hurt and we want to help you!” Kenichi begged. “The doctors are just gonna X-ray your wrist and fit you for a cast! It won’t be too bad!” his coach added. 

The floor started to shift and Yuki’s eyes were beginning to fill with tears. No, this was a lie, it had to be! They were trying to get him in trouble, to make him a bad child. Big boys are supposed to deal with pain on their own. Now look at you, you’ve caused a scene. Hurry up and apologize, you fucking piece of shit. 

“I-I-I’m s-s-sorry… p-please don’t hurt me, I’ll be good this t-time, I p-promise!” Yuki choked out. He couldn’t stop shaking. He had to run, he had to get out of this! He turned around to find any other exits, but he was cornered. The hallways connected to the lobby were blocked with at least 2 teammates each.

The coach slowly walked toward Yuki, careful not to startle him any further. “..Listen, I know you’re scared right now but you can meet your parents soon, I promise!” the coach smiled. 

Yuki couldn’t take it anymore.

He desperately pushed his way past the coach and Kenichi and ran out of the building as fast as he could. His coach and Kenichi quickly caught up to him and looped their arms around his, trying their best to restrain him without hurting him any further. As they made their way to the coach’s car, Yuki couldn’t help but scream.

“I-I’M B-BEGGING YOU, PLEASE DON’T LET THEM F-FIND OUT!” he cried. Two teammates followed close behind to help Kenichi and the coach put Yuki in his seat belt. Something felt wrong to Kenichi. Why was Yuki panicking like this? Why didn’t he want them to take him to the hospital? Who were those people he was so terrified of? 

It couldn’t be that bad, right?


	2. Diagnosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Proper medical treatment is for squares.

He had tried not to give up, at first. He had tried to launch from his seat before the seatbelt stopped itself. He just wanted to go, run, anything. He knew that in the hospital, no matter what, his parents would be called. He just couldn’t afford what would come of it. The ‘I told you so’s and the stinging insults about how he couldn’t just suck it up would destroy him, although it was probably the least they would do.

His reality felt… fragmented in that moment. Part of it was in his senses. He could see he was in the car. He could see his friend, Kenichi, glance at him from time to time. He could hear himself sobbing, it was loud and ugly. He hated it. He hated that he had to have this episode of weakness in front of everyone who didn’t need to know. He was always happy and upbeat in front of his club members, they really really didn’t need to know about his panic or his parents. He felt sick because of that. He could still feel the stinging of his wrist. He could taste something in his mouth. Had he been biting it again or was that bile? He couldn’t tell. He was only vaguely aware of his sensory reality.

Yuki was really focused on the reality in his mind. Buzzing and empty at the same time. Spinning with paranoia and making half baked excuses to tell his parents. Every thought buzzing by and making sure his anxiety stayed, burning into him. Scenarios that were unlikely seemed to play out in great detail. They were unlikely, but they were horrifying. 

He jumped, pulled back into the real world as Kenichi put his hand on Yukis shoulder. Kenichi tried to give a sympathetic smile to Yuki, who looked akin to a scared animal. He tried to calm Yuki with breathing, silently asking that he breathe with him. It may have helped with the distressed sobbing, but the nervousness and paranoia about the hospital remained. 

They pulled into the hospital later, checking him in. The doctors gave him small doses of sedatives so he would be still and calmer as they ran tests. Eventually they finished and left him in his room while they waited for his parents to come and make any further decisions. While the sedative calmed him, he still worried about what exactly his parents would do when they did come. How annoyed they would be that he probably pulled him away from work.

The sedatives made Yuki feel a sensation he’s never felt before. He thought that the doctors would just knock him out to make him less of a burden, but that was not the case. He felt his muscles tingling, and he was strangely unnerved by his own heartbeat as each and every pulse resonated throughout his body. It was frightening. 

He was happy that Kenichi decided to stay with him as he waited for his parents to arrive. He needed someone to keep him tied to reality for just a little. I’ longer. It was nearly eight o'clock at night already, so his parents had to be coming soon. If Kenichi wasn’t there, he was sure that his anxiety would take over all of his senses again, and the doctors would surely be forced to give him a stronger dose of sedatives.

You’re such a little bitch. You should at the very least apologize to him for being such a pain in the ass.

“...I’m sorry that you’re forced to spend your Friday night stuck with me, Kenichi. I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” Yuki apologized. 

“What happened wasn’t your fault, quit apologizing man! Of course I would stick with you, we’re buddies remember?” Kenichi grinned. 

That was true. Ever since Yuki met Kenichi at volleyball tryouts last year, they were practically inseparable. After practice, they would visit all sorts of restaurants together, and Kenichi would even invite him to his place sometimes. Yuki felt ashamed for hiding his friendship with Kenichi from his parents, but he wanted their friendship to last. He didn’t want his parents to ruin it like they did everything else in his life.

A few moments later, the door creaked open, and Yuki’s blood ran cold. 

The doctor walked in and Kenichi was asked to leave, Yuki’s friend being replaced by his stern parents, both looking as if they were judging him until they sat down. The doctor explained what they found in the tests, how he was pretty much healthy, but they thought his wrist was broken or fractured, and advised an X-ray.

His parents mumbled to each other. Yuki would have thought that his parents would decide to at least let him get a cast. He was just more afraid of what they would say afterwa-

“No, we’ll check him out of here now, if that's alright.” His mother said.

What? He didn't expect that. He used to twist and sprain his ankles all the time when he was little, covered in ace bandages and braces, sometimes even casts from time to time. But, he shouldn't have trusted them that much. It had been years since his last hospital-worthy injury though, he should have expected his parents to change. The last time he had an X-ray was when his parents were still nice to him. A lot had changed, and this was one of the things, he supposed.

“Mrs. and Mr. Mishima, I can't legally stop you from doing that, but I would recommend that you at least try to.” The doctor pleaded. It was his job to be concerned for his patients, after all.

“No, we’ll be fine, I'm pretty sure he’s just overreacting anyways.” His father said. He let out a small chuckle afterwards, trying to make it seem lighthearted. Yuki was scared though, scared of that joke. He knew that it meant later he would definitely be scolded. Maybe as soon as they were in the car. If it weren't for the sedatives, he would have been holding in another anxiety attack. 

“But seriously Mr. Mishima, the test results have confirmed that your son seriously needs medical aid, or else he may face complications. If you’re concerned about the medical costs, I can assure you that the injury is relatively minor compared to other cases, and can be repaired at a reasonable price,” the doctor explained.

“ If it’s as minor as you say, shouldn’t my son be able to heal it himself?” his father gritted. “Forgive my husband for his rudeness. But for now we need time to.. Discuss what we should do about this concerning the costs and my son’s treatment methods,” his mother stated.

“O-okay, if you say so. But please take my suggestion to heart, I’d hate to see such a young man be subject to any more physical harm than this,” the doctor sighed.

“We will doctor,thank you for the suggestion. Just send the bill to our residence. Yuki, lets go,” his father replied.

After receiving several brochures and papers regarding medical treatment options, Yuki and his parents started making their way to the car, nobody saying a word until they reached the parking lot.

“Is this thing really broken?” his father asked, grabbing Yuki’s wrist. His father’s grip was so strong Yuki could have sworn he heard a small cracking sound, and he howled in pain. 

“ Well, good to know that doctor wasn’t a quack. Well, I still ain’t paying for a fancy cast, doctors are thieves anyhow. We can fix this ourselves,” his father said promptly, letting go of Yuki’s wrist.

“We can definitely do that, dear! Don’t worry Yuki-chan, my mother knows a home remedy that can heal broken bones in the blink of an eye!” his mother grinned.

I have a bad feeling about this, Yuki thought to himself.

On the way home they made a stop. A variety store, so his parents could get what they needed for whatever they had in store for his recovery. He wished they would have just let the hospital do it. He was scared, terrified even. His parents weren't doctors, who knew what would happen? What if the outcome was horrible? What if he recovered wrong on- no, no. His parents probably had good intentions. Sure, they were mean and terrifying sometimes, but parents always had good intentions for their children. He tried to put himself at peace with that. If his healing was bad, his parents wouldn't have meant it. 

He was too tired to think of anything else. It had been a long day and fatigue was catching up to him. He was just dozing off as his parents came back into the car, in fact.

Yuki awoke much later, the car much warmer than it had been when he fell asleep. It seemed that his parents had decided to leave him there until he got up and into the house himself. Well, fine by him. It gave him just that much more time to prepare himself for going inside and seeing what his parents would say about his clumsiness now that they weren't in public.

Some time later he decided to enter the house, opening and closing the door in case he was interrupting something. He kind of regretted not making it apparent when he entered.

“All I'm saying is that now instead of having his head in that sport all the time, he can study! He does have horrible grades. It's embarrassing to the family,” his mother said.

“Yeah, and all I'm saying is that that sport was the only thing keeping him like a man. Even if this treatment works faster than the damn doctors one he’ll get softer than he already is.” And there was his father.

What his parents thought of him wasn't a surprise, it was always hinted in their conversations together. His mom wanted him to be smarter so he didn't drag down the reputation of the family, and his dad thought he was nothing but a weakling and a poor excuse for a boy. Either way, he disappointed both of them. He just couldn't be the son they wanted. He tried to believe that these opinions of him didn't have any effect on how they raised him. But, when he heard them state these things so bluntly, he couldn't help but feel hurt. It just stung.

“Well, dear, maybe you can get him to do exercises when he's in his splint.”

“S-sorry for f-fa-falling asl-sleep in th-the car,” Yuki said, deciding it was time to end this. He didn't want to hear any more of what they said when they thought he wasn't there.

“Speak up, kid. No one likes it when guys are shy.” Grumbled his dad.

“I-I'm sorry for fa-falling asleep in the c-car,”

“Hmph. We’ll work on it. About time you woke up. It was a 15 minute drive back, you couldn't keep your eyes open for that long?” Yuki looked at his feet in shame.

“Oh, now don't be so hard on Yuki, the doctors probably gave him something.”

“Damn assholes, can't leave our kid alone.”

Well, that wasn't it, but he didn't exactly want to argue with his parents tonight. 

“Anyways, now that you've joined us, why don't we get you patched up, hm?” His mother said, gesturing for him to sit down at the table. He complied, but saw that what they were going to ‘patch him up’ with was kind of… odd. There were two thin and short planks of wood that looked pretty together, not splintering, but obviously hadn't been sanded down and were more for construction than for a splint. Next to them were a roll of duct tape, and jars of herbs that looked like they were for cooking and again, not for splints. 

Yuki didn't want to know what exactly they had in store for him anymore. He just wanted whatever it was to be over with and fast.

Yuki’s mother gently rubbed some of the herbs on his wrist. She used chamomile flower heads, lavender, peppermint leaves, and garlic, having no idea what each herb did. Yuki cringed at the scent the peppermint and the garlic gave off.

His father gruffly took his left hand and put his left forearm on one of the wooden planks, and hastily the other plank on top, making Yuki hiss a little from the pain.

“Come on, don’t be a sissy, that should barely hurt you!” his father grunted. Yuki sat up straight and bit his lip. “O-oh..I’m sorry..it didn’t hurt at all! I was just caught off guard!” he lied.

His father simply let out a huff and started to wrap Yuki’s forearm with an abnormal amount of duct tape. After he finished his work he smiled. “Heh, and we almost paid a fortune for some cheapskate quack to do this!” 

His mother nodded. “We should open up a clinic!” she giggled. “ Yuki-chan? While you’re healing make sure you use your time to focus on your studies okay?”

“Y-yes, of course, mother!” Yuki gritted out, trying his best to not let the pain get to him.

“For now you should go to sleep dear, let whatever the doctors gave you wear off,” his mother insisted. Thankful that he was being let go, Yuki gave out a smile. “Y-yes ma’am, goodnight!” he replied,and he ran into his room. The moment he did, panic started to seep in, and he started to shake. What am I going to do!? This pathetic excuse for a splint isn’t going to fix this! W-What if I can’t play volleyball again? W-Will everyone on the team abandon me!? Tears were streaming down both of his cheeks as he stared at his left wrist, covered in duct tape.

A ridiculous, unreasonable part of him wanted to just throw something, or hell even finish off his wrist by knocking it into something. No one would make an effort to fix it if there was no chance of being fixed, right? A better part of him kept him from doing either. He was sad, anxious, angry even. He tried to pull himself back together though. He sat down and curled himself into a ball, rocking himself slightly, sobbing into his knees to try and muffle them. One day when he was in a safe place he could cry louder, but this wasn’t the place for that. He couldn't show his panic in this house, or else he would be punished for being so ungrateful. 

Maybe that's what Yuki should focus on, not getting caught. He felt lucky for not getting completely and intentionally punished for being at the hospital, he shouldn't push it. Hell, with that luck, he felt kind of silly for freaking out earlier. He'd probably try to apologize again tomorrow. He just had to push his episode down. For later.

Pretty soon he could feel his sobbing quiet down and eventually stop. Now he was just shaking, and dazed again. At least he wasn't being loud. He wanted to squeeze himself tighter, but he could only use his right arm to do that. When he tried both, his left arm flared up again.

Right, right, right. It felt so weird. He barely used this hand and now he would have to use it all the time until his left hand - hopefully - healed. He held his left arm in front of him, looking at the splint. It definitely was his dad's work. Hasty but sturdy. He could just slightly wriggle his wrist inside of it, and the rough wood irritated the skin on his hand where it stopped. And it hurt beyond that, every time his wrist moved slightly inside of it, it brought on a wave of stinging pain. It was wrapped too much everywhere else to take it off, though. He sighed, going back to his thoughts from a bit ago.

What if the team did abandon him? He wasn't exactly going to be useful for a long while if ever, and volleyball was why they all had even bonded and became friends in the first place. If he couldn't play with the and help them, what was he to them? He may still have the Requests Channel for the Phantoms, but the team was so much different. Years of work and friendship, he felt like they were all equals there. He didn't want that to be sacrificed just because he was a little careless. He didn't really feel like he should ask them, either. He didn't want to be annoying. He didn't feel like doing much of anything that night, really. He had panicked and stressed enough to fill his entire life, or so he thought.

So with that, he dragged himself out of his daze and climbed into bed. He could still feel the wood digging in, and it made it just that much harder to drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos, bookmarks and comments are always appreciated! <3


	3. Adaptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No use crying over spilled milk. Especially if Yuki's father will give him something else to cry about if he does.

The next morning seemed almost worse. The aching, stinging pain in his wrist kept him from any comfort grogginess could bring him. Nevertheless he dragged himself out of bed, his parents wouldn’t be that much happier with him if he didn’t go to school just because of it. 

Another problem cropped up as he was getting ready, however. The makeshift splint made his arm a lot clunkier than usual, and he’d need to hide it too. Dammit. He had to think of how to get around this, and quickly. 

His father would force him to skip breakfast again if he wastes too much time. Not knowing what else to do, Yuki threw on an oversized sweater under his uniform, keeping his right hand completely covered. All he could do was hope that nobody calls him out on it. With that, he styled his hair, threw on his backpack, and went downstairs. 

Weekday mornings were...peaceful somehow. Yuki’s mother was still asleep while he got ready for school, and his father left just minutes before he did. All he had to do was eat breakfast while avoiding his father, and he was home free. Well… at least that was the case when his father didn’t have anything to say. He froze when he heard his father call him as he reached for a prepackaged muffin from the food cabinet. As usual, his stern expression on his face sent chills down Yuki’s spine, but he didn’t let this show on his face. No, that usually made his father angrier than usual. 

As Yuki approached, his father was putting his coat on, ready to leave for work. Once Yuki came close enough, he looked at him dead in the eye. “ Don’t cause any trouble at school today because of your bitching, understand?” he commanded. At that moment, Yuki’s heart nearly stopped. Now he was sure that he couldn’t fuck up. He couldn’t afford to. “Yes sir,” he replied, resisting the urge to shake or stutter. His father merely grunted in confirmation before walking out the door, slamming it behind him. 

He… suddenly wasn't very hungry anymore. What his father had said dropped his mood far too low to be occupied with eating. But, going out now would mean running into his father a second time, and he had even less motivation to do that. So he started to eat anyways.

He could only really get halfway through the muffin before it was time for him to get to school. Eating was way harder with just one hand.

He walked out and locked the door behind him, putting some earbuds in. He strangely felt safer in the crowded streets, he blended in, at least a little. In fact, getting to school was the most normal thing to happen to him in the past few hours. Unfortunately, he just couldn’t bring himself to fully comfort himself with it. Even with the comfort of anonymity and music flowing into his ears, he couldn’t get his father’s words out of his head.

The directions to not cause trouble translated, to him, that he caused trouble just so easily. He had to make a big fuss about things, and this was just something so he could learn to shut up for once. Maybe if he could follow that, his dad would give a damn, and if his dad did his mom would follow suit.

When he got on to the subway, he tried to block out these thoughts. Even if they were true, they brought him down. If he was visibly upset at school, he would just cause more trouble. He scrunched the left sleeve of his sweater up just a bit, and focused intensely on picking a loose end of duct tape and then smoothing it back down repeatedly until his stop came.

He got to school a few minutes early, Kenichi approaching him. Yuki discreetly pulled his sleeve back down.

“Hey, trying a different style with your uniform today?” He commented. Well, that was one hope dashed for the day. Yuki nodded, worried that if he spoke, something would show. “So, anyways, how did last night go? I was kind of worried about you.”

Immediately Yuki’s mind retorted, please don’t worry about me. He stopped himself just short of saying it aloud. Instead, he took a breath and gave Kenichi a faint smile. “Yeah, I decided to mix things up for a change. And about last night...it was okay I guess,” he shrugged. Kenichi didn’t look like he was going to buy it that easily, so he squinted at Yuki for a moment. “You sure? You...really didn’t look okay to me.”

Not knowing what to do, Yuki forced an even bigger smile. “I’m okay now, really!” he snapped all too quickly. Kenichi simply raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you say man, just take it easy today, okay?” he requested. Yuki nearly let out a sigh in relief, if Kenichi found out before class even started, his father would have his head. The thought of making his father angry made his blood run cold. He...hated to remember the last time he pissed him off. All he could remember is his angry shouts before being hit by a glass bottle, passing out. So he had to keep it a secret. He had to unless he wanted something else broken, whether it be his other wrist or whatever was left of his self worth.

Yuki didn’t say anything else to Kenichi as they walked to class, and all he did was stare out the window until the first bell rang. He looked down and grabbed for his notebook in his backpack. While he would usually just lean down to get it, he had to twist in his seat to grab it with his right hand. It was awkward at best. The teacher greeted the class and he opened his notebook, almost pushing his left hand against the top of the table so he wouldn't risk using is and exposing the splint. It hurt, but he wouldn't fuss. He dug his teeth into his lip to ensure it. He made sure he was very still as the teacher lectured. He didn't move much except for his right hand scribbling down notes. 

By the time classes broke for lunch, he was so tense had almost stuck himself in place. He glanced down at the notes. He immediately noticed that he couldn't decipher most of what he wrote. The only slightly legible thing was the last few sentences, but only because the material was still fresh in his mind. He hoped it wouldn't be a big thing on the upcoming midterms. 

Yuki looked around the classroom, hoping no one would have noticed anything. Neither of the thieves in his class seemed to be looking in his direction, in fact, both of them seemed to be heading out, it was unlikely Ryuji was even at school that day, and Kenichi seemed to be occupied as well. Other than them, no one really paid much attention to him. He was greatly relieved. If it was like this every day, maybe it would be easy to get through until it healed. No rumors about it had seemed to spread yet, so he hoped he was in the clear. Plus, the schedule didn't have any P.E. classes until the next week. That was good.

Lunch ended before he could blink, and Yuki went back into the stiff position he had been holding before until the afternoon classes too, ended.

He looked down with disappointment. More illegible notes. He hoped he could at least remember what he had been taught long enough to go home and study it online. If his grade suffered because of this, he didn't want to think of what his parents would do. He packed up his stuff, ready to just leave already. When he stood up, he realized how absolutely stiff he was after so many hours of pushing his arm down so it would be still. He tried to stretch, but as soon as he did, pain shot through his arm again, and he quickly curled inwards. He cradled his arm, hoping it would stop hurting if he did.

He picked up his bag after the pain died down to more of a burning. He wasn't sure whether school and the threat of people finding out about his arm or being home and the threat of his parents was more stressful.

Before he could walk out of the classroom, Kenichi approached him again.

“Be careful on your way home, ok?” It almost hurt Yuki to be worried about in this situation. Nevertheless, he forced another smile, looking for something to say that didn't worry his friend any further.

“I’ll be fine, I'm not that fragile!” He said. However, it didn't seem to connect with Kenichi, who frowned slightly.

“You were in the hospital last night, you're at least a little fragile dude.” At that Yuki's smile sagged a little.

“We-well, I made it t-to school today so I-I should be fine!” Damn it. He knew his stutter wouldn't convince anyone. Kenichi just looked solemn and concerned.

“Just… just be careful, ok?” 

“I will.” He promised. They walked out of the school together, splitting off at the gates.

Yuki travelled into the subway tunnels. As he waited for the train to show up, his phone buzzed with a text.

It...was Akira. The king of the thieves. The man who had the whole world waiting for his next move. He couldn’t help but feel his heart pound. He’s been texting Akira for a while, but the thrill of speaking to one of the phantom thieves never left him. His bravery to done the mask and cape piqued Yuki’s interest to learn more about him, and couldn’t help but devote his time helping Akira in anyway he could. Normally Yuki would get excited from getting a text from him, but...he wasn’t. He just couldn’t be. He unlocked his phone and read the message.

“hey, u doin alright? U were spacing out a lot in class today” 

Dammit. DAMMIT! Yet another person had decided to give a damn about him. Why was it so fucking frustrating? Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? But...he couldn’t say this. Not to anyone, not ever. 

Yuki quickly sent a reply. “Yea,, didn’t get a good night’s sleep is all, I’ll be fine,” he typed.

A minute later, his phone buzzed once more. 

“If you say so. Get some more rest tonight then, k?”

The moment the text arrived, the subway train pulled in. Yuki quickly replied with a brief “k” and boarded the train. As usual, it was filled to the brim with people, and the recent accidents did no favors. He bit his lip when an elderly woman bumped into his left arm, the burning sensation nearly getting the best of him. He managed to stay out of trouble today, but how long could he hold out for? Yuki didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out. All he knew is that he had to be more careful. Both Kenichi and Akira got worried. He needed to get out of their sights, and quickly. Don’t make them worry, don’t let them worry. Don’t EVER let them worry.

Before he knew it, the train arrived at his stop, and he stumbled out with the crowd, his mind still in a daze. He wanted to forget about all of this by going to practice, but after what happened last night, he didn’t have the energy to lie to his coach too. He didn’t want to go home, but… he just didn’t have anywhere to go. His parents wouldn’t be home for at least a few hours since he decided to go home early, so that was a relief. But once they came home, his personal hell would resume once more. At the very least, he would finally be alone, and that’s all he could ask for. 

The walk home was easy enough, though Yuki felt his makeshift splint begin to fall apart on his way there. Shit… The tape must have worn throughout the day. He really didn't want to see what would happen if his parents ripped the duct tape off, let alone go through applying the thing again. 

He’d just keep quiet about it, he was sure his parents wouldn't notice. After all, they didn't seem to care when the old coach…

He pushed that thought out of his mind. He just knew they wouldn't notice, and he'd leave it at that. 

When he got home he began to lose himself in the Phansite, reading over each and every request, even the ones he could tell weren't worth it from the first few sentences. A few of them though, reminded him how little his issue was.

It didn't matter if he was a little hurt, there were people fearing for their lives. He really didn't matter.

You should have learned that in middle school.

His mood dropped with that thought. It was true, but he wished he didn't have to remember.

He heard the deadbolt on the front door click, and made the split second decision to hide. He couldn't bring himself to deal with his parents right now.

He dashed to shut the lights in his room off, and then his laptop shut. The door had opened. He quickly dashed into his bed before hearing his mother call. 

“Yuki-chan, I’m home!”

He allowed himself to breathe. He wouldn't have to deal with them if he faked sleep well enough, right?

“Yuki-chan?” Her footfalls getting closer to his room. He did his best to look like he had been sleeping for at least a little while. 

It was hard to hear what she was doing, even when she was in his room. She was the one he got his petiteness and quietness from, after all. He could feel her touch his shoulder, just to make sure he was asleep. He did his best not to flinch. 

But, she didn't seem to leave after that. He could just barely hear her walking across his room, and some rummaging. She seemed to go through his whole room before she finally left, leaving Yuki anxious and confused. What the hell could she have been looking for? He wanted to ask. To walk up to her and ask what he had done to make her suspicious enough of him to search his room. He had already sealed his fate though. He didn't want to think of the consequences if she knew he wasn't actually asleep, but listening. 

He’d also have to catch up on all the requests that would be sent in as he slept.  
\-----

He woke up feeling nervous from last night, and it being Sunday he didn't have the excuse of school to keep him out of the house. He knew he should just use the day to clean up the site, but he couldn't bear to stay at home. He needed to get out and do something to distract himself. With his stuff, too. He didn't want it being gone through again. 

While putting his computer in his bag, he noticed that the splint was becoming even looser. To the point where one of the wood pieces dropped down into his palm and he had to push it back in.

I can be tougher than this, he thought. He really wanted to postpone putting a new one on for as long as possible.

He just elected to ignore it. Now he needed to figure out just where to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, bookmarks, and kudos are very appreciated ❤


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